Ireland - Gap of Dunloe and getting lost

Here's a post of my boyfriend, Dorian, for his adventure in Ireland on the day when I had to attend the conference and had no time for something else.

One day I rented a bike to explore the Gap of Dunloe – a valley carved into the rocks by a glacier ages ago.

It was, as all the other days, rather hot and dry compared to what the Irish are used to. I’ve come clad in sunscreen and base-cap though, so I was delighted to stop pedaling and have a snack just outside of the gap – a last respite before the adventure.

To both sides the gap presented rocks, sheep and a grass so green that just then I started to realize what it means. No photo does it justice, for we have come to accept that all photos are shopped, yet seeing it in real is something that no monitor can convey.

I passed sheep by the rocks, by a lake.

I passed horse carriages, hikers and other bikers.

Sweat dripping from my brow, legs being at the end of what strength they could muster, I breathed a sigh of relive when a cold breeze passed me by – I had reached the highest point in the trail.
It had not been that many meters up, but it was a long and winding road for someone not used to biking. Going downhill was a welcome switch.

After stopping for a Sandwich at Sir Brandons Lodge I welcomed a change of scenery. The grassy rocks of the gap gave way to a rather forestry area, shielding me from the sun. The local horseflies liked this area as well, and it took three bites to teach me to be weary of them.

So far I had navigated quite well and came to all the right stops, yet a wrong turn in the forest brought me to Derrycunihy Church. There at a crossroads again I asked a stranger for directions. He bade me go south and soon east, where a sign would point to the old road going back to Killarney. Biking that way as prompted I happened upon the stranger again on the road, him also biking in the same direction. We fell into a conversation about Irish history, poetry, birds and whatever came to our mind. I felt a strange kinship with John, as if he was who I would be twenty or thirty years from now. Arriving after a while on a vantage point he pointed to the distance at some island whose name I forgot.

“You’re going to kill me, but we went the wrong way”

Turns out this was where John was headed, but not where I had to be. Lost in conversation we went south and further south until we were close to Kenmare.
It was already getting late and the bike shop would close soon. Moving quickly and talking little we headed back to where we first met and biked down the sloped road heading north.
We parted way at the edge of Killarney. Though part of me would have liked to sit and drink Cider with John, I knew I had to get back. The bike I was unable to return this day, but I met Ela and was quite happy for a shower and a nap after a day of biking.